


Felix Felicis

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Felix Felicis, Fluff, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, M/M, Malfoy Family Feels, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: When Albus manages to brew some Felix Felicis he and Scorpius have no idea what to use it for, but they know it has to be something important. Thankfully seventh year is full of life-changing moments that will shape their futures forever, and they could both use a bit of luck. Thanks to autumnhearth for prompting this. Sorry it took so long to write!Also thanks to Abradystrix and allostaticroad for betaing.





	

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're waiting for some important news it isn't cheating to give it a nudge along with some extra luck, is it?

Albus comes flying into the library, tie askew, hair a complete mess, cheeks pink, breathless. "I've finished it," he whispers, dropping into the seat beside Scorpius and dumping his bag on the floor. 

Scorpius looks up from his book and stares at him. "Are you-" He glances around. There's a handful of Hufflepuff third years holding a study group at a table nearby. None of them are paying any attention to anything other than their books, but it's best to be cautious. He lowers his voice and leans in closer to Albus, so their foreheads are almost pressed together. "Are you sure?"

Albus nods, eyes bright, a huge grin on his face. "Completely positive. It looks just the way it should. Look." He dives down and rummages through his bag, pulling out a tiny vial of liquid that shines like molten gold. 

Scorpius gasps. "You brought it with you?" His voice rises high-pitched in terror and excitement. "Albus, anyone could see!"

"Shush!" Albus hisses, leaning back in and putting a finger against Scorpius's lips. "It won't be a problem if you don't yell about it."

"Sorry," Scorpius whispers, resisting the urge to kiss Albus's finger. He pulls away and reaches a hand out for the bottle. When Albus hands it over he turns it around between his fingers, examining the viscosity and the beautiful, clear colour. "It really is perfect." He looks at Albus. "You're brilliant, you know that?" 

Albus smiles and runs a hand through his hair. "I hope it works. There are things that could be wrong but you wouldn't know until you drink it. But... I-I think it's good. I think it might be the best potion I've ever brewed." 

Scorpius kisses him, hard and brief. "You should be proud," he says, keeping a hand on Albus's shoulder when he pulls away. "This is difficult. Really difficult. I know I couldn't-"

"You're making me blush," Albus says, swatting at him gently and taking the tiny vial back. 

"I hope so," Scorpius replies. "You look pretty when you blush." 

Albus rolls his eyes and tucks the tiny bottle away back into a safe pocket of his bag. "I have two of those, enough for twenty-four hours of luck. It isn't much, but it reduces so much while it's stewing..." 

"What are you going to do with it?" Scorpius asks, drawing his eyes away from the pocket of the bag where the potion had disappeared and looking up at Albus.

Albus shakes his head. "I don't know yet. I thought... Well, I thought maybe you would like half? That way we would both have twelve hours. Twelve hours to use on whatever we want." 

Immediately Scorpius's mind starts racing. Twelve hours of luck. What would he do? What could he use it for? Not exams, or Quidditch, those are both illegal, but there's so much else he needs luck for at the moment. School work, looking for jobs, and there are some important things that need discussing that he's terrified of talking about. Maybe with a bit of luck those conversations might be less frightening. 

"I think I might save mine," Albus says, settling his bag in his lap. He's staring into the distance, apparently entirely lost in thought. "It seems silly to rush into the wrong thing. And I think I'll need it. At some point, you know?" 

Scorpius nods. "Keep it safe for a rainy day."

Albus twists his hands together and looks up at Scorpius. "I-I haven't had many perfect days in my life. But you know... I think I already am pretty lucky. I have you. I'm not doing terribly at school. Things are... They're pretty good really, with my family. With my dad... So I don't know. I need to think about it carefully. Before I use it. Don't you think?" 

"I can't think of a single one," Scorpius says, mind racing now Albus has planted the idea. "Not a single perfect day. Plenty of good ones these days, but not perfect. I'm not sure I can even imagine..." He pauses and takes a breath, looking down at his knees. "A perfect day without Mum..."

Albus shifts in his seat. "Scorpius," he murmurs.

"Sorry," Scorpius says with a sigh. 

"No," Albus says, looking across at him, eyes full with a deep sadness. "No, you shouldn't be sorry. It makes sense." 

"It's also stupid." Scorpius shakes himself and forces a bright smile onto his face. "I can't have Mum back, so. Maybe I should find out what a perfect day is like without her. I have you, I have my dad, I have Rose. And it isn't as if Mum is completely gone. She's still with me. Anyway, being lucky doesn't mean everything is perfect, does it? It just means it's a bit extra-brilliant." He does a little shimmy with his hands and wriggles his shoulders a bit. "And extra-brilliance is something that's always helpful." 

Albus nods, slightly dubious, and Scorpius leans forward in his seat, deadly serious now.

"I think this is just like picking the right spell. You have to choose the perfect moment. When you really need it. And then things will fall into place." 

"But how do we know when it's the perfect moment?" Albus asks, looking at him, a little lost. "It seems like a lot of pressure." 

"I'm not sure," Scorpius says. "Hopefully we'll just know."

"Hopefully," Albus sighs. He folds both arms around the bag and holds onto it tightly, like it's incredibly precious, which Scorpius supposes it is now. It has twelve whole hours of luck in it. Twelve hours of dreams coming true and things falling into place. Twelve hours of opportunity. Twelve hours that might change their lives, especially now, in seventh year, when pivotal moments are happening all around them at every second of every day. It's terrifying, but Scorpius can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. 

The things they could do with twelve hours of luck. 

 

**Albus's lucky day**

Mid-February. The dormitory is full of murky darkness, courtesy of a combination of thick grey clouds and snow covered ice, which block out the afternoon light that normally penetrates the depths of the Black Lake. Albus has lit the lamp by his bed, something he rarely does because usually he enjoys the rippling, watery quality of the little sunlight that reaches them. Today, though, it's so dark he has no choice. 

He sits cross-legged on his bed, at the heart of the little pool of golden light that's sending long shadows cascading across his bedspread and the floorboards behind him. His neck aches as he stares down at the notecards in his hands, desperately trying to make Transfiguration theory sink into his overstuffed brain. 

_When transforming large objects, keep concentrating the whole time or you might end up with something half finished._

_Keep steady at the end of complex wandwork or you might break the spell._

_Enunciate your magic words properly for Merlin's sake._

He lets the cards fall onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. This is not the day for studying. He's exhausted, just getting over an irritating cold that he'd managed to pass on to Scorpius, convinced he's going to fail all his exams because his brain is a sieve, and his stupid letter still hasn't come. 

The letter is the bane of his life right now. It shouldn't be nearly as important as it is but he wants to know. Just a simple yes or no. That's all. He's been waiting months and the Ministry said he would know by the end of February. Now it's the twentieth and still he's heard nothing. 

With a groan he flops down onto his front, crushing the stupid notecards underneath him. He kicks his pillow up from the bedhead, hooking it in with his foot until he can reach down and hug it to his chest. 

As he's lying there in a miserable little ball, the door opens and Scorpius comes in. He's wearing a scarf, has a blanket wrapped round his shoulders like a cape, and is gently smoking at the ears. There's a goblet in his hands, presumably full of tea, and a ragged tissue hanging out of the sleeve of his jumper. His hair is a mess and his nose is red. 

"You look horrific," Albus says. 

Scorpius sniffs. "As always I appreciate your honesty. I just had some Pepperup Potion though, so hopefully soon I will be fit to inhabit this earth." He puts his goblet down and flops onto his bed, scrabbling around until he's wrapped up in his duvet. "You don't look great either. Why so miserable today? I thought you'd got rid of your cold?"

"I have," Albus says, hauling himself upright. "I was just... Transfiguration." He pulls the crumpled cards from beneath himself and tosses them onto his bedside table. "And... Well it's February, isn't it? And I still haven't... Not knowing, it... I mean I know it's going to be a no but I wish they would just put me out of my misery."

"Ah," Scorpius says. "The Aurors are still keeping you on hold." He tugs the tissue from his sleeve and blows his nose loudly. "Albus, they would be stupid not to take you. Your dad is, well, your dad, and you take after him. You've already helped defeat a dark witch, and you're the best in our year at Defence. You'll be fine." He sounds weary as he says it, and Albus knows why. 

They've been having this exact same conversation every single day since he first applied back in September. He should stop talking about it so much but he can't. How Scorpius manages to keep his nerves about Healer training applications under control, he honestly has no idea. He just feels constantly anxious, some days even sick, when he hears the first fluttering of the post owls at breakfast. His fixation must be irritating, and he's tried thinking about it less, but it's next to impossible when he wants it so much. 

"Sorry," he says finally, deflating and flopping down onto the bed again. "I know you want me to stop talking about it. I..." He shakes his head. "Anyway. Did Madam Pomfrey say you'd be okay now? After the potion?"

Scorpius nods. "I have to rest this afternoon and then I should be fine by tomorrow morning." 

"I suppose you want me to take notes for you in Potions then?" Albus drags himself to his feet and starts packing his things up, ready for class.

"Albus Severus Potter," Scorpius says, with immense feeling, "if you took notes for me in Potions I would love you forever." 

Albus glances round at him, hiding a smile. "You mean you aren't already going to love me forever? I'm heartbroken." 

Scorpius groans and buries his face in his blanket. "No, I didn't mean- Of course I love you, I- How about this. If you take notes for me I will give you my spare chocolate frog... And my bag of Pepper Imps." The offer sounds rather pained and Albus's grin widens.

"Wow. That really is love. You've got a deal." 

Scorpius shakes his head. "I really am ill, giving away my sweets... What was I thinking?" 

"I have no idea," Albus says. He picks up his bag, then crosses the room to ruffle Scorpius's hair and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Behave. Sleep.  I'll see you later. If you're good I'll even share my Pepper Imps with you."

"You mean you'll share  _my_ Pepper Imps with me? How kind, Potter, I'm blessed."

"They're mine now," Albus says, tapping him on the nose. Scorpius sneezes on him.

 

Albus takes meticulous notes all the way through Potions. It's only once their professor has stopped talking and they're brewing that his mind wanders. The potion they're making today is a touch complicated but nothing he can't handle. What gets him is the similarity between the first few steps of this potion and another potion he's brewed -- Felix Felicis. 

It has been a month or so since he'd completed the lucky potion, and that time has been so busy he's almost forgotten about it. But now, as he's going through the motions it comes back to him. Liquid luck. If he wants his letter to come then maybe what he needs is a perfect day. Wouldn't that do it? It probably would but... Is it allowed? Would it affect the result? Of course the result was decided ages ago, but...

His mind races as he works on his potion. He's too distracted for it to be his best work. There are none of his usual extra touches, because he just doesn't have the extra headspace to work them out. The way he normally brews requires constant careful calculation in tandem with instinct. But this is an acceptable potion at least. It'll do. And he has more important things to think about.

At the end of class he hands in his flask and rushes back up to the dorm. He lets himself inside as quietly as he can and finds that Scorpius has in fact fallen asleep. All that's visible of him is a little bit of fluffy blond hair sticking out the top of his blankets, which are slowly rising and falling with each snuffly intake of breath. 

Albus puts the Potions notes on Scorpius's bedside table then tiptoes to his own chest of drawers and rummages through them, searching for the little box where he'd hidden the two bottles of Felix Felicis. It's buried at the back of his bottom drawer, behind his socks, and he prises it out and sets it on the floor. The Felix Felicis isn't the only thing in there. He has a couple of vials of Polyjuice, several poisons and their antidotes he'd made before his sixth year exams, and various other little bottles too. The liquid luck stands out though, shining the colour of buttercup petals, almost glowing in the dark box.

He picks one of the bottles out and retreats to his bed. He rolls it over in his palm, watching the potion pour and swirl. If he took it before breakfast it might make the letter come faster. He wouldn't even need the whole twelve hours. Maybe an hour for the post owls to come, and then some extra to get him through the day... But what if it's cheating? 

For a long moment he stares down at the bottle in his hand, then he gets to his feet.

"Scorpius." He walks across and crouches down by Scorpius's bed, very gently shaking his shoulder

Scorpius gives a very quiet mumble, then a groan, and his face emerges from the cocoon of blankets. "Albus?" He squints against the light. "Are you okay? Did you-"

"I took the notes," Albus says, climbing up onto the bed and shutting the hangings to keep the light out. "Now you owe me. But I-I didn't wake you because of that. I actually have a question." 

Scorpius rubs his eyes and props himself up on his elbow. "I don't know if I'm in a fit state for answering questions." 

Albus sighs and curls up next to him. "Sorry. But... I had a thought. In Potions class. And I know you hate talking about it, but... I remembered this." He opens up his hand and shows Scorpius the bottle. Scorpius reaches for his wand, lighting it up so he can see, then he frowns blearily at the potion. 

"Felix Felicis. What about it?" 

"My letter," Albus says, watching his face. "In a perfect day it would come. I thought maybe with a bit of luck- But Scorpius... If it was a perfect day it would be good news, and... I don't know if it's cheating." 

Scorpius's eyes lighten up ever so slightly and he lifts his head off the pillow. "This is actually an interesting theoretical question." 

Albus hugs the bottle in against his chest. "Okay." 

"You see, the question is, were the results of your tests determined when you took them? Or are they determined when you get the letter telling you your results?" Scorpius sits up, the blankets falling away from his arms. "There's a Muggle scientific experiment called-"

"Scorpius? Can you just... Give me an answer?" 

Scorpius looks down at him for a moment, then he lies on his side and reaches across to take Albus's hand. "Would you feel like you'd cheated?"

Albus shrugs. "I don't know."

"You said you were going to save it for something important. The luck. Does this feel important?" 

Albus looks across at Scorpius. For the past couple of days his eyes have been dull and cloudy from the cold, but now they're bright, shining like stars in the wand light. Albus holds onto his hand tightly. "I can only think of two things I've ever wanted more than this. It's... I-I don't know what else I would do. Potions, I suppose. But... Potions isn't enough. This is bigger than a job. It's... helping people, fighting the darkness, saving lives. I..." He swallows. "I really want it Scorpius." 

"So that's a yes?" 

Albus nods. 

"Then I think you should do it," Scorpius says. 

For a moment Albus looks at him, then he bows his head. "Okay. I-I suppose it's obvious. It was a stupid question. I'm sorry I woke you up. I should probably let you-"

"No," Scorpius says, sitting up again. "Isn't it dinner time now? I'm starving." 

Albus gives a very small smile. "You're always hungry."

Scorpius stretches, all the blankets and several screwed up tissues falling away from him. "My dad says I'm a growing boy who needs his food."

"Well I wish you'd stop growing. I already can't reach you properly."

Scorpius laughs and hauls him to his feet. "Come on." 

Albus stumbles off the bed and dusts himself down. "Madam Pomfrey's potion is working then."

"You know, I do think I may be feeling better," Scorpius says brightly. "Isn't that great?"

Albus heaves a long-suffering sigh. "I'll let you know."

 

The next morning they sit side by side on Albus's bed, pressed tight together, both looking down at the little bottle in Albus's hand. 

"Are you sure I should-" 

Scorpius cuts Albus off before he can say another word. "If you don't take it now we'll miss the post altogether."

"But I-"

"You'll regret it if you don't. I know you will."

Albus looks at him and Scorpius nods, a tiny, reassuring movement. Presumably it means  _go on, put us both out of our misery._  

"Alright." He draws in a very deep breath, uncorks the bottle, and before he can think better of it takes a long sip.

The second he does he's glad he drank it. It sends a warm glow through his whole body. It's like drinking pure, bottled sunlight. Golden, slightly sweet, with all the wonderful satisfaction of Butterbeer but somehow even better. It pours through him, through his heart and soul, almost overwhelming. 

And then he feels it. It's like exhilaration, and confidence, and a complete sense of what he wants and needs all at once. Like the world is telling him a thousand things, presenting him with so many chances and opportunities, and if only he pays attention it'll take his feet to the perfect place, at the perfect time. He knows he can do anything. 

"Wow," he breathes. 

"You look... Good," Scorpius says, watching him intently. "Confident."

Albus knows what he means. He feels like something has happened to his stance. He feels like his back is straighter, head higher. Relaxed and certain. 

"I've never felt..." he says quietly. "This is wonderful." A broad grin spreads across his face. "I can't believe I ever doubted this would work. Of course it will." He reaches across, takes Scorpius's face in both hands, and kisses him. 

Scorpius stares at him, apparently stunned. "This is good for you," he croaks out finally. "This was a good decision."

"Maybe even a lucky one," Albus says. He gets to his feet and starts getting dressed. "Breakfast?"

Scorpius seems to have lost his voice because all he does in response is nod.

 

Albus strides into the Great Hall, feeling more sure than ever before that this is it. The morning he's been waiting for. He sits in his seat and starts buttering toast with immense purpose. Scorpius sits opposite him and seems incapable of not staring. After a couple of minutes Albus feels his cheeks start to heat under the scrutiny.

"Scorpius... Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"Sorry," Scorpius says, flushing pink. "You just look... Impressive." He mumbles the last word and busies himself pouring milk on his cereal and shovelling it into his mouth as fast as he can. Albus shakes his head and helps himself to bacon. He's halfway through a forkful when the first flutterings of the post owls sound overhead. He drops his fork with a clatter, and Scorpius dribbles milk down his chin in excitement as he forgets to swallow before trying to talk.

"Post!" He says, grabbing several serviettes and starting to mop himself up.

Albus looks skyward, heart racing as he stares up at the flock of owls. It's a cloud of brown and grey, each owl indistinguishable from the rest. Ministry owls are usually ordinary brown owls, impossible to spot in the melee. In fact, the only owl he knows that would stand out in a crowd like this is their family owl. A snowy owl. 

There's a speck of white up there. He can see it. A single pale shape amongst all the dull colours. It catches his eye and he follows the owl's progress down the length of the hall. The mob thins out by about halfway down, but Scorpius and Albus always sit furthest toward the back of the hall. Anything coming to them will be last to arrive. 

The snowy owl separates from the group and soars toward the Slytherin table. Albus already recognises the familiar patterns on her feathers, the slightly lopsided way she flies. The only strange thing is that he isn't expecting anything from his parents. They only wrote a couple of days ago. 

With a swoosh of wings the owl lands on the table in front of them, neatly folding herself into the gap between the tureen of scrambled eggs and the pumpkin juice jug. Albus feeds her a bit of toast crust before untying the letter from her leg with fumbling fingers. This is his lucky day, and if this is the post he's been sent then it must be something worth reading. 

As soon as he unfurls the parchment he recognises his dad's handwriting, spidery, a bit messy, and painfully similar to his own. 

_Albus,_

_This is slightly out of the blue but I'm taking the afternoon off today and I was hoping to come up and see you. There's some stuff I'd like to talk to you about if that's okay._

_I hope you're well and that the cold's gone._

_See you this afternoon just after lessons. Constant vigilance._

_Love,_

_Dad_

Albus looks up at Scorpius who is practically vibrating with excitement. 

"What is it? Is it good news?" 

"I don't know. Dad's coming to see me. Look." He hands the parchment across to Scorpius who reads it through twice, a little frown creasing his forehead. 

"Your dad's taking time away from the Ministry? This must be important."

Albus nods. "I-I think... If I could have planned a perfect day he would have... You know. He's my dad, and..." 

"You like to see him," Scorpius says, handing the letter back.

"Exactly. But... What could he have to talk to me about? I don't think I've done anything wrong. My schoolwork is okay. I haven't had a detention in weeks..." He stares down at his dad's writing again and shakes his head. "This isn't what I expected. What does it mean?" 

Scorpius shrugs. "It must be good though. This is your lucky day, remember?" He grins at Albus across the table and Albus nods and folds the letter up. 

"I hope so." 

He feeds the rest of his toast crusts to the snowy owl who gives his fingers an affectionate nibble before taking flight and soaring away out of the hall. For the rest of breakfast Albus sits and wonders, with a small tinge of hope, what's going to happen after class.

 

It would be easy for Albus to spend the whole day worrying, and for that to ruin all his attempts at magic, but actually lessons that day go spectacularly well. He's not sure he's ever had such a great day at school in his life. It's as though he can't put a foot wrong. 

In Transfiguration they're practicing transfiguring each other, and he's so successful in turning Scorpius's hair a rainbow of colours that Scorpius forgets he should be trying to do the spell himself and starts requesting his favourite colours and patterns. In Charms he produces a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that it takes the entire lesson before he becomes visible again. And in Defence the complicated new Shield Charm he's trying out is utterly unassailable. Only Scorpius breaks through it, and when he does Albus hits him with a beautifully timed Tripping Jinx that sends him sprawling several feet across the classroom floor on his belly. 

By the end of the day Albus is practically skipping he's in such a good mood. He dumps his bag in the dormitory and bounces up to the entrance hall to find Harry standing just inside the doors chatting to Professor McGonagall.

"Hi, Dad," he says. "Hello, Professor." 

"Superb work today, Potter," she says. "I was very impressed." 

Albus beams at her. "Thank you, Professor." 

"I certainly hope you keep it up." She gives him a nod, then draws herself up. "Well, I have some essays to mark so I'll see you both later. It was good to speak with you again, Potter." She gives Harry one last look before turning and sweeping away into the castle.

"What did you do in Transfiguration?" Harry asks after McGonagall has left. 

"We're doing Human Transfiguration. Today we were doing hair. I turned out to be quite good at it." 

"An important skill for an Auror." Harry pushes the door open and holds it for Albus who gives a slightly dejected sigh as he walks through.

"I know. And it might be entirely useless if I don't-" His shoulders slump. "Anyway. I-I'm sure you didn't come to talk about any of that. You're probably not even allowed..." He glances across at his dad.

Harry digs his hands deep into the pockets of his cloak as the door swings shut behind them and they set off down the steps. "How's school going? How are lessons? I know you were stressed at Christmas." 

"It's okay." He gives a little shrug and kicks at a bit of melting snow. "Some days I don't think my brain can handle anymore. But I'm keeping going. I have to. And Scorpius helps, you know. He helps me study. Sometimes I help him. And at least I'm actually okay at at least two of my subjects. I know -- I hope I know -- that I can do well at Potions. It's nice having something to feel confident about." 

"Yeah?" Harry glances across at him. Still listening. 

Albus nods. "I-I suppose it's a good thing? I have something I could do instead. If this doesn't work out... Did you know I made my own Felix Felicis? Just to see if I could." 

His dad blinks at him in surprise. "Doesn't that take months to make? Did it work?" 

"It takes six months. And I think it worked. I hope it did..." 

"I hadn't realised you were so-" he cuts himself off. "It's the sort of thing Hermione might have done."

"I have to have something to do while Scorpius is reading or playing Quidditch," Albus says with a smile. "A few years ago I would never have... But I-I like having a challenge." 

Harry nods, and unless Albus is mistaken there's a smile of pride on his face. 

They've almost reached the edge of the lake now, a good distance from the school. Albus's shoes are soggy and cold from the melting snow, and he blows on his fingers to warm them up. There's a stiff wind blowing across the bare grounds making a bitterly cold day even colder. 

The water is steely grey, like frozen iron, and the wind is blowing waves which break up the shore. Ice and frost litter the pebble beach, crackling white shards that shatter under Albus's feet. He picks up a stone, turns it over in his hand, then bends low and sends it skimming across the water, bouncing away into the distance. Beside him Harry has removed his gloves and is searching for something in an inner pocket of his cloak. 

"Albus?"

He's already picked up another stone, but at the sound of his dad's voice he straightens up. The little voice in his head that's been guiding him all day says this is something he wants to pay attention to. He tucks the stone into his pocket. "Dad."

Harry walks across to him, still searching inside his cloak. "There's a reason I came to see you today. Obviously I always want to see you, but today I have something I wanted to give you. I could have sent it, but I thought it'd be nice to hand it over in person." He pulls an envelope from inside his cloak and holds it out. 

Pale yellow parchment. An official looking purple wax seal. A little thick, like there are several sheets inside. Perfect, unbent, unblemished. 

Albus's heart stops. His knees feel week. He swallows and points to the letter, hand shaking. "What's that?" 

"Why don't you find out?" Harry says, smiling. 

"I- Okay." He sounds incredibly small, incredibly anxious, and his hand won't stop shaking now. There's a tiny glow of excitement swelling up inside him but he pushes it back down because he can't get his hopes up. 

He takes the envelope and turns it over. His name and address is written on the front in neat, unfamiliar handwriting.  _Albus Severus Potter, The Slytherin Table, Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_. This was supposed to come at breakfast. 

Unable to breathe, Albus turns the envelope over in his hand. Then over again. Then again. Finally he splits open the seal and starts to ease the letter out of the envelope. As he does he glances up at his dad and sees Harry grinning and bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. That has to mean- No. He isn't going to think about anything like that until he's seen it for himself. 

The corner of the parchment catches as he tries to tug the letter free. He wriggles it around and finally gets it out of the envelope. Swallowing hard, taking several deep breaths, he unfurls the letter and reads. 

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Following the fitness and aptitude tests you took in October I am delighted to tell you that you have been conditionally accepted to the Auror Training Programme. You are invited to commence training in August of this year, pending receipt of the following required N.E.W.T grades..._

Albus doesn't read anymore. He can't see anymore. Tears blur his vision and there's nothing he can do except bow his head and hug his letter against his chest. 

He finally has his answer and it's the right one. The one he's been dreaming of for months. As long as he gets his exam results he's  _going to be an Auror_. 

It's an entirely overwhelming thought that makes a sob escape him. The letter is crumpled in his hands, and he just wants to hold onto it tighter and tighter, like it's a lifeline. Like it's an anchor to a future he'd thought was just a dream. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up to see his dad grinning at him. 

"How long did you know?" Albus chokes out. It's all he can think of to say. 

Harry's smile turns a little sheepish. "I had to sign off on the decision at the beginning of the month. This was the earliest I was allowed to tell you I promise. Believe me it was hard holding it in." He looks Albus dead in the eye and turns serious for a moment. "I'm really proud of you. This is brilliant news." 

Albus looks down at his now slightly screwed up letter. "It is, I-" he shakes his head and covers his face with his hand. "I don't know what to say?" 

Harry laughs and pulls him into a tight hug. He ruffles Albus's hair and Albus makes a noise of complaint but doesn't resist, just clings on tightly, eyes closed, feeling utterly elated. If he'd wanted a perfect day he's certainly got one. 

 

They wander round the grounds for a bit after that, chatting. Albus quizzes his dad about a job he's working on, trying to foil an illegal healing potion smuggling ring, and Harry in return asks all about his classes and offers a couple of tips on one of the defensive spells Albus has been struggling with. 

It's nice to just talk. Sometimes Albus doesn't realise how much he's missed his dad until he's right in front of him, when suddenly all the awful heartache of absence and longing for home comes flooding out. Being away at school didn't used to hurt this way, but he'd take this pain over the old horrible anger and misunderstanding any day. 

They stay out until it gets dark. Dark and utterly freezing cold. Albus is shivering and his feet are so numb he can hardly walk, thanks to the snow that's soaked into his school shoes. When they finally part he gives his dad one last warm hug then rushes up the steps and heads for the Slytherin dorm, his teeth chattering.

The luck has really started to wear off. It must have been fading while he was talking to his dad, but he’d been so happy he hadn’t noticed, and now it’s definitely gone. Apart from his wet shoes and frostbitten toes he manages to run headlong into Peeves and he's stuck there for ten minutes, trying to get past without having a bucket of freezing cold water tipped on his head. Then he trips on the stairs in his attempt to flee and goes sprawling headlong across the floor, scraping his hands. By the time he makes it upstairs he's exhausted, irritable, and shaking violently.

"Where have you-" Scorpius looks at him. "The potion's worn off then."

Albus nods and kicks his shoes off, then tugs his sodden socks off his feet and tosses them into his laundry basket. "Not that long ago, but long enough. I think I might go and shower." He starts gathering up his pyjamas, but Scorpius crawls across his bed to watch him. 

"What did your dad want?"

"Oh!" Albus stops, his bright grin immediately restoring itself on his face with just the simple reminder that life is actually pretty hopeful right now. "Here." He pulls the letter from the pocket of his coat and tosses it to Scorpius who catches it.

"I can read?" 

"Go for it." 

Scorpius sits cross-legged on the edge of the bed and pulls the letter out. Pyjamas forgotten, Albus peels his coat off, hangs it up, then sits and watches Scorpius read. His eyes flicker across the page and his face slowly transforms, frown disappearing to be replaced by wide eyed excitement, then a huge grin, and finally he looks up, eyes bright. 

"You did it!"

Albus beams. "I know!"

"But you actually-" Scorpius looks down at the letter then back at Albus, then he flings himself across the gap between their beds, bowling Albus across the mattress as he kisses him. Albus laughs in surprise and hugs him. 

"Scorpius you're flattening me! How are you so heavy?" 

Scorpius props himself up on his hands and looks down at Albus. His smile is huge; there are little crinkles by his eyes he's beaming so hard. "You're going to be an Auror." 

The smile is completely infectious, and Albus finds himself grinning back. "I know. I mean... I do still have to pass my exams. I have to pass them well, too. Which will be easier said than done. And then I-"

Scorpius kisses him again. When he pulls back his expression is set. "You're going to get an E in every single one of those exams if it kills us both. We're going to do this together. You help me, I'll help you, and when summer comes we'll both start our dream jobs. Yes?"

Albus nods. "I like that deal." He leans up and kisses Scorpius briefly, then tickles his stomach until he rolls off, because he is quite heavy. They lie side by side on the bed, Albus already feeling considerably warmer and happier. When Scorpius takes hold of his hand it's enough to make him forget about the cold entirely. He snuggles in tight against Scorpius's side and closes his eyes, swinging his feet lazily off the side of the bed. 

Scorpius fiddles with his fingers, messing with each one in turn, spreading them out, putting them back together, clenching his hand into a fist and then out again. It's relaxing. The gentle, concentrated movement. Albus has learned in the last year or so that it's entirely full of love and affection, and it makes him feel so warm and contented every single time. 

"So..." Scorpius says after several minutes of quiet. "You're going to be moving to London then." 

"I guess," Albus replies, staring up at his hangings. He feels like he could fall asleep at any moment. 

"Did you, um. Did you think about where you're going to live?" Scorpius is clearly trying to keep his voice light and casual, but Albus can hear the slight strain in it, and when Scorpius lets go of his hand and starts chewing his nails Albus glances across at him. 

"Not yet... Why?" 

Scorpius shrugs and avoids his eyes, gazing fixedly up at the hangings. "Just wondering."

Albus eyes him for a second, then rolls onto his side and nudges him lightly in the ribs. "What are you thinking?" 

Scorpius heaves a sigh and drops his hand down onto his stomach, turning his head to look at Albus. "What I'm thinking doesn't matter because it's a stupid idea." 

Albus smiles and nudges him again. "You don't have stupid ideas. Come on." 

Scorpius looks at him for a moment, eyes heavy, like grey clouds that are just on the edge of being full to the point of raining. "You know. I'm going to miss a lot of things about this place when we leave. The lessons. The ghosts. This dorm. Just... Being in the castle. I love it here. It's like home." 

Albus squeezes his hand tightly. "I know," he says quietly. "I mean I-I don't know. It... Well I'm sad about it. The idea of leaving. But I don't like it here nearly as much as you do, so I can only imagine..." 

"Do you know what I'm going to miss most?" Scorpius says, voice slightly thick, eyes flickering away from Albus like he can't hold the gaze any longer. 

"The library?" Albus guesses with a little smile.

"You," Scorpius says. Tight and short and painfully, shockingly direct in a way that makes Albus freeze. 

"What?" He says, no idea what else to say.

"I wanted a friend," Scorpius says, fingers twisting together on his stomach as he stares up at the canopy above them. "When I came here that was the one thing I wanted. And I got you. And then I lost you for a bit, and it was awful. But you came back, and things were good again. And then I, well, then I fell in love with you, and I..." He glances at Albus and Albus realises his eyes are very bright all of a sudden.

"Seven years," Scorpius says. "We've seen each other every day, slept in the same room, worked together, everything. Everyone knows we're inseparable. Even during the holidays I... And now we're just going to part. Like nothing ever happened." He waves a hand through the air. "Just go our separate ways and live our lives. And I-" he sniffs, and suddenly there's a tear trailing down one of his cheeks. It plops onto the pillow and Albus stares at it in amazement and horror. "I don't really know how I'm supposed to do that."

"Scorpius," Albus says, a disbelieving laugh escaping him because this is so absurd and he doesn't know what to do. He swallows and scrambles onto his side, propping himself up so he can properly look at his boyfriend. "I don't understand. You're making it sound like we're never going to see each other again." 

"You're going to be an Auror," Scorpius says, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm going to be a Healer. I'm sure our schedules will be entirely incompatible." 

"Well I hope not," Albus says. "There's no way I'm going to pass Auror training without you. I... I need you. Like you said, I don't know... Without you, I... I love you. We don't just stop being friends after Hogwarts. It doesn't work like that. I won't let it work like that. You're my best friend. You're more important-  _far_ more important than any job." 

Scorpius makes a broken little noise that's half sob, half laugh, and he looks up at Albus, face shining and wet. "You're entirely too optimistic about this. If you think we're busy now, just imagine when we start training. We're never going to see each other, Albus. Not unless we live together, which is obviously a ridiculous idea." 

Albus sits up properly and looks down at him. Living together. Living with Scorpius. The two of them staying together after school. The idea sparks in his mind and takes hold, burning bright in its brilliance. "Is it?" 

Scorpius sits up too, furiously wiping away his tears. "Yes, it is. We can't just..." He waves a hand between the two of them. "It isn't sensible."

"We've already lived together for seven years without killing each other," Albus says, shuffling forward, legs crossed, animated now. "We barely ever fight. We could help each other study. Don't you think it would be good? Do you..." His shoulders slump slightly as doubt creeps in. "Do you not want to? If you don't want to then obviously that-" 

"I want to," Scorpius says, very quietly, not looking at him. "Of course I want to. But I don't want to... Ruin things." 

"Who says this will ruin it?" Albus asks, leaning in closer.

"It's the sort of thing that happens," Scorpius says in the wise voice he sometimes gets when he's been spending too much time around Rose. "Albus, your parents are weird, I don't know if you know that."

"What have my parents got to do with-"

"Together since school, stayed together, still happily married." Scorpius lowers his voice and it sounds strained but strong. "The world doesn't work that way, you know? Things happen. People break up. People- Circumstances change. And this just feels like tempting fate." Scorpius looks at him. "I love the idea of it, Albus. The concept of it is wonderful. But life doesn't work in concepts. It works in things going wrong. And this is something which is too good not to go wrong." 

"So you'd rather we just never see each other?" Albus asks, tight and defensive.

Scorpius runs a hand over his face. "Of course not, but logic dictates-"

"Logic dictates that we're happy," Albus says fiercely. "That we've lived together for seven years, that we'll miss each other, that we can help each other study, that we both need somewhere to live and have no one else to live with. Except maybe Rose, but you've said before she'd be a nightmare if you had to spend all your time with her. So what about that logic?"

Scorpius leans back and shakes his head. He licks his lips but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't seem to know what to say. In his silence Albus reaches out and takes hold of his hands. 

"We can do this, Scorpius. We're sensible. And... If we can't live with each other then honestly I'd rather know now than find out in five or ten years time when things are even more complicated."

Scorpius looks down at their linked hands, fingers messing with Albus's, curling them up and then uncurling them again. "You're making it really difficult to find a reason to say no." 

"If you want to say no, then-"

"I don't want to." He looks up at Albus. "Mum used to say that... Life is too short to follow your head all the time. Why do you think I threw myself off the train after you? I'm scared of heights you know. And that was a really tall viaduct."

Albus grins and bumps his shoulder into Scorpius's. "I know. Sometimes I still can't believe you came. And I'm really glad you did. I-" He pauses. "I'm always glad to have you. So I think we should do this. Are we going to do this?" 

Scorpius looks at him and a slow smile spreads across his face. "I suppose we are." 

Glorious happiness floods through Albus and he squeezes Scorpius's hands tightly. "I'm going to be an Auror, and you're going to be a Healer, and we're going to live together, and- You know this really has been a perfect day." 

Scorpius laughs and kisses him, then they sit there with their knees and foreheads pressed together, grinning, Albus feeling light and warm and entirely happy, heart glowing as golden and sure as if he'd just drunk a whole vat of Felix Felicis. 

Nothing will stop them now. There are no barriers between them and the future. Apart from exams and how their parents will react to their plans. But those are definitely problems to worry about another day. 


End file.
